


better in threes

by anirondack



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, I Can't Believe That's Not Already A Tag, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Post-The Raven King, Praise Kink, Sub!Gansey, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 04:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6738952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anirondack/pseuds/anirondack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Henry and Blue look up when he comes in and lets the door shut behind him. He lets his mask drop in increments - first his face, which stops smiling, and then his shoulders, which slump, and then his posture, which becomes equivalent to Ronan’s. He looks up at them and he gives them a tired half-smile, and Blue and Henry immediately slip off the bed and come to him.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Gansey attends Mrs. Gansey's Congressional swearing-in. Afterwards, Henry and Blue take care of him.</p><p>(Post-The Raven King. Beware of spoilers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	better in threes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amillionhours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amillionhours/gifts).



> Written for Devin because he deserves nice things.
> 
> There's a bit more exposition than I originally planned, but I promise the porn is there. There were just some things that needed to be taken care of first.
> 
> there's a podfic of this fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7438326)

In the end, it had been easy for Mrs. Gansey to win her seat in Congress.

After he had been resurrected, Gansey had been driven to his parents’ hotel, bloody and red-eyed and strangely calm, and the hurt and irritation that had been fed through his phone and into his veins had dissolved instantly into worry. Mrs. Gansey had suggested the hospital and Mr. Gansey had suggested the police and Helen, knowingly, had not suggested anything, but Gansey had shaken his head at them all and used the hotel room shower to scrub all the varying shades of blood off of him.

The fundraiser, Helen had told him later, had been a moderate success. His lack of presence had been noted and played off - _Richard doesn’t want to steal the spotlight, we know how popular he is among the student body, he’s very busy with his applications, we don’t want to keep him from that_ \- and Mrs. Gansey’s speeches had received as much support as they were liable to get from teenage prep school boys, and no one had said a thing when a boy and a forest died and started to live again inside each other.

It had been simple, though less easy, to get Monmouth back.

Gansey did not begrudge Ronan’s absence at school in the week after Gansey’s death. Declan called Aglionby to explain that their mother had died, and that Ronan and Matthew would not be in attendance until the next Monday. Matthew, of course, was still in D.C. and Ronan would get trapped in the seat of his car or his bed or the roof of a barn for hours at a time and was not anywhere.

But after two weeks had passed, Gansey had driven to him and climbed onto the roof and admitted to the deal. Ronan had looked at him and cursed at him and Gansey had pulled him to his chest and held onto him as Ronan, improbably, lost a fight with tears again. Curled against Gansey, he admitted softly that he was not going back, and that the deal had been a waste, with the heavy undertones that _he_ had been a waste, and Gansey had shaken his head and rubbed Ronan’s back and understood.

The meeting with Child had been uncomfortable and stilted, but not impossible. Gansey had a spark of Ronan’s temper in him, but he had Adam’s forced stillness and his own shiny mask of a smile that would not waver, and he had calmly talked Child into letting him rescind the paperwork. There was no diploma to be had, and no Ronan to take it, and Child, perhaps riding high on a several-thousand-dollar donation for letting Aglionby be the host of future Congresswoman Gansey’s event, had finally folded. Gansey had called his lawyer and Child had called _his_ lawyer and the deal was struck down and Gansey had felt somewhat lighter as he left the office with his home intact.

Blue was not registered to vote in D.C. - she was registered in Virginia - but she had told Gansey that she would not vote for his mother even if she could and he had told her that he did not blame her.

But she had won, by a fair amount of votes. Gansey had taken the day off of school to make appearances - bloodless and clear-eyed this time, without the weight of six hundred years of kingly decay on his back and yet somehow with the support of all of time allowing him to stand - and they watched as the exit poll numbers ticked upwards to hover around fifty-seven percent. Mrs. Gansey had been modestly pleased, which is to say, she had been delighted, but Ganseys were not delighted out loud, so she had reigned it in and made her speeches and drank too much champagne afterwards. Gansey and Helen had stood together, her hand on the small of his back and his hand on her shoulder, beaming for the cameras, like their lives hadn’t been upturned once again.

Henry had said he watched it on television. Adam had also said that he watched it on television, but Gansey believed Henry more. Neither St. Agnes nor the Barns had functional televisions at the time.

Gansey had spent the rest of November and most of December readjusting to having limbs without roots and the sense of one second per second as his baseline of living. He had also spent the rest of November and most of December half curled around Blue, who he had driven to a number of psychics around Virginia and West Virginia so that she could reach into their tarot decks, pull out _The Lovers_ , and not immediately pull _Death_ afterwards. The consensus seemed to be that Blue had kissed her true love and he had died, and so the curse was satisfied. Blue seemed to trust these readings, but it wasn’t until after the third one that she had pushed Gansey up against the Pig and kissed him breathless. Things were, she reminded him, better in threes.

It had been remarkably easy to fall into it - into _her_ \- without the heavy curtain of secrecy wrapped around him, or else it was remarkably easy when he was sure in the round circle of time that he had already kissed her a thousand times and he was used to it. But she would come over on her bike after school and frequently Henry or Adam or Ronan or some combination would be over as well. She would kiss him as a hello and then again just for the hell of it and no one would be shocked or hurt.

Only Henry had been there one afternoon, toward the end of November, one of the times when she had done exactly that. Adam was with Ronan, who needed help fixing a barn door and also needed someone to kiss for several hours both before and after, and Henry had picked Gansey up for school so he was returning him as well. Blue had come in, fluffed her fingers through Henry’s hair, and then sat across Gansey’s lap, flattening the book he had been reading. He had curled his arms around her waist and kissed her and she had run her fingers through his hair and he had kissed her again and she had been warm all over from it. And then Henry had said, “It’s rude to do that in front of a man without asking him to join in,” cocking one eyebrow as high as his hair, and Blue had laughed and then looked looked at him again to see that his humor was again a mask, this time for note of longing instead of a note of despair. So she had crooked one finger and Henry had opened his mouth and failed to properly articulate his worry that he had pushed them into something and his regret for any uncomfortable feelings until Blue had slid off of Gansey’s lap and Gansey had leaned forward and kissed him as well. The look on Henry’s face had been very funny for two seconds, until he had gotten past the shock and into the pleasure of it, and then it was just very nice to look at. Gansey had threaded his fingers through Henry’s hair and Henry’s fingers had curled into Gansey’s shirt and they had stayed that way until Blue tapped her fingers on Gansey’s shoulder and he had pulled back to let her take her turn.

And it had been easy. Gansey had come out the next day and told Adam that he and Blue had both kissed Henry and intended to do it again. Adam, who had a rather dark hickey poking out of his shirt collar, did not seem bothered by this. He had offered his fist and Gansey had bumped it. Ronan had laughed - he had more than a few hickeys and was not shy about showing them off - but he had punched Gansey in the arm and made a crude joke that Gansey knew was acceptance.

It was so much easier to live without the choking secrecy. Gansey didn’t know how he’d done it for months with Blue.

Henry still lived at Litchfield, but he was over often. Blue still lived at 300 Fox Way, but she was over often. Adam still lived at St. Agnes, but he was over often. Ronan still lived at Monmouth, officially, but he spent so much time at the Barns that when he was back, it felt like he was visiting. Gansey missed him badly but could not begrudge him wanting to be home as much as possible.

Blue had been sleeping over one night, plastered up against Gansey’s back with one arm looped around his chest. He had kissed her knuckles and marveled at the fact that he could. In his circular life, all points were darkened by the fact that she could not kiss him and then lightened again by the fact that one day she could and today, miraculously, was that day.

“Do you mind me calling you my girlfriend?” he had asked her. They had convinced Henry to stop calling her his child bride, after a very long and informative rant from Blue, but it had left a startling, though small, hole.

Blue had shrugged a little. “That means such a specific thing.”

“What would you prefer?”

“Best friend?”

Gansey had smiled a little against her hand. “I have a lot of best friends.”

“Me too,” Blue had agreed.

“Did you always kiss your best friends?”

“My best friend was my mom a lot, so sure.”

Gansey had chuckled softly. Blue’s fingers had traced over his chest and it had been very calming. “I rarely kissed any of mine. I probably should have.”

“Ronan wouldn’t have liked it,” Blue had commented. “That’s halfway to incest.”

Gansey had laughed again and she had squeezed him tighter. “Adam might have liked it.” He imagined kissing Adam. It had seemed strange and right all at once. He had wondered if it was a part of Ronan inside him that was feeling that, but then he had untangled the strings of himself again and remembered that those feelings were his own. Adam should have been kissed earlier and often, and maybe Gansey would have been better able to articulate the feelings of togetherness and belonging that each of them had given him. _Jeong_ , his brain had supplied, and he had been surprised that he still remembered it, considering everything that happened that night, but also not, because of how deeply it had resounded with him.

“I kiss Henry,” he had said. “Is he my best friend because I kiss him, or do I kiss him because he’s my best friend?”

Blue had smiled against the space in between his shoulder blades, and then pressed a kiss to them. “That’s not why he’s your best friend.”

“It helps,” Gansey had said, mostly to make her laugh, which it did.

After she stopped laughing, she had leaned her chin against his shoulder. Her hand had rested somewhere right of his heart. “I’ll be your girlfriend,” she had said, “as long as I’m still your best friend too.”

“A required part of the deal,” he had said somberly. “No getting out of that one.”

“Good.” She had sounded genuinely pleased about that, which made his heart trip a little. “What about all your other best friends?”

“I don’t think they’d want me to call them my girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend, though.”

Gansey had made a face and then considered that. He would not classify either Ronan or Adam as boyfriends - except maybe to each other - but as brothers, a brother and a keeper, a brother and an idol, a brother and a savior. He had not voiced this particular idea to Blue, but he had murmured Henry’s name and she had known what he meant.

“That’s what I thought too,” she had said, and he nodded, and somehow, it had stuck.

~

January third is the first day of Congress. Mrs. Gansey is being sworn in. Mr. Gansey is proud, Helen Gansey is doing a very good job at appearing to be proud, and Gansey is tired from the drive. Blue and Henry had slept in the back of the car and he had been jealous but not enough to wake them up. Now, they’re both in the hotel room, probably napping, and he’s standing next to his mother in a pants suit that Hillary Clinton would be proud of, allowing people to take pictures of him again. Mrs. Gansey wraps her arm around his shoulders, even though he’s taller than she is. He beams for the camera but his mind is five blocks down the street and up four stories and down several doors.

The first day of Congress is mostly swearing-ins. There are a lot to be done, and Mrs. Gansey has to stay for all of them, and Gansey is ready to jump into his car and speed back to Henrietta by the time it’s over but then there’s dinner and a reception and coffee and tiny desserts. Gansey’s public face feels worn thin - he’s out of practice and he’s been wearing it all day and the ribbons that tie it on are fraying. Helen has noticed, but she’s just as tired, and neither of them can escape with so many notable people surrounding them. Since he’d gotten his warehouse back, Gansey has been very afraid of throwing his mother’s career into jeopardy again, so he behaves, even when all he wants is to go into a quiet room and close his eyes.

It’s well after eleven at night when he slides his key card into his hotel room door. By some fortuitous coincidence, he does not have to stay in the same building as his parents, or the same floor as Helen. He loves them all, but they’re best in small doses when Blue and Henry aren’t curled up together on one bed watching a movie a quarter mile away.

They both look up when he comes in and lets the door shut behind him. He lets the mask drop in increments - first his face, which stops smiling, and then his shoulders, which slump, and then his posture, which becomes equivalent to Ronan’s. He looks up at them and he gives them a tired half-smile, and Blue and Henry immediately slip off the bed and come to him. Blue presses against his chest and wraps her arms around him from the front; Henry presses against his side and wraps his arms around him from the back. They hold onto him for a moment, and then Henry gently turns Gansey’s face to the side and kisses him. Gansey relaxes a little more in their arms and Blue murmurs, “Yeah, that’s it, we’ve got you,” as she slides her hands down his back to start pulling at his shirt. Henry shifts away about an inch to give her more space and curls his hands delicately around Gansey’s jaw as they kiss. Gansey sighs softly and his fingers fall to rest against the waistband of Henry’s pajama bottoms.

Blue gets Gansey’s shirt untucked and pushes his suit jacket onto the ground, and then she and Henry switch. It’s a little bit awkward, because Blue has to lean up and Gansey has to lean down, but she tangles her fingers in his hair and holds onto him and Henry unbuttons his shirt. He tugs the tie loose but not free, and the shirt open but not off, and then his hands are running over Gansey’s chest and Gansey’s shuddering a little, already flayed open from spending all of time posing for paparazzi outside the Capitol Building. One of Blue’s hands join’s Henry’s, running up Gansey’s side and scratching lightly down. Gansey shivers again and sways a little and Henry’s hands tighten around him and hold him up.

“Hey, we got you,” he says against Gansey’s shoulder. Gansey leans his head forward so that his forehead rests against Blue’s. “We got you, man, it’s okay.”

“We’ll take care of you,” Blue agrees. Her hands slip down to start working at Gansey’s belt buckle, and then she slides the belt out from the loops of his suit pants and tosses it on the ground. Henry holds him up, arms wrapped tight around him, as Blue undoes the fly of his suit pants and pulls them down. Gansey helps her by toeing off his shoes and then she pulls his pants and socks away and shoves them back toward the jacket. Without the suit as a second skin, Gansey feels lighter and more at ease, and Blue’s warm legs are brushing against his now, which feels nice.

Blue pulls back a little, which makes Gansey open his eyes, but she’s just tugging him toward the bed that’s closest to them. The room has two beds, but none of them have any delusions that the second one will be slept in. Blue hops up onto the bed and scoots back to lean against the pillows, then pulls Gansey to her. He goes easily, collapsing against her, and she wraps her arms around him and wiggles him around until his back is resting against her chest, his body between her thighs. She turns his head with one finger to kiss him, and then there are warm hands on his legs. He opens his eyes to see Henry sitting in front of them, focusing intently on Blue, gently rubbing a circle on Gansey’s shin with one thumb.

“Hey,” Blue murmurs. “Look at me. Focus on this.”

Gansey nods a little and lets her draw his attention back to her lips. She kisses so sweetly sometimes, and then sometimes, she kisses to take him over. Sometimes they’re the same thing. Flakes and shards of Richard Campbell Gansey III, Congresswoman’s son, are being scrubbed away, and it feels like fresh air on his real skin.

Her hand is on his chest again, curling around the tie that’s still dangling around his neck. She tugs on it lightly and he sways in that direction, which makes her smile against his lips. “That’s good,” she says encouragingly. It feels good to have pleased her. “That’s good, Gansey, I like that.”

“Me too,” Gansey says softly, because he knows that she’ll want to know if he agrees. Sure enough, she gives him a bright and blinding smile, and then she tugs him forward with the tie to kiss him again. Her scales are tilting from sweet to all-consuming, and he’s grateful. He wants his real self on display for some of the only people who will accept it as truth.

Henry’s hands are stroking over his belly again. Blue lets go of the tie for a moment and Gansey is disappointed until he realizes that her fingers have laced with Henry’s over his chest. Henry’s thumb is stroking along a large freckle Gansey has; if Gansey thinks about it, he can relive the exact moment in time that the sun ray that gave it to him was born. It makes him shiver, and then Henry’s hand is wrapped around the tie, tugging on it.

“Stay with us, Richardman,” he says gently. “Stay right here with us.”

“Right, sorry,” Gansey mumbles, but Henry shakes his head.

“No sorrys. Just us. Okay?”

Gansey nods. “Just us.”

Henry smiles brightly at him, just like Blue had. It always feels good to have their full attention on him. It’s like it’s happening at all times, in all places. Wherever he slips, they’re there to pull him back.

Henry leans over to kiss Blue, just for a moment. The way his lips are a little swollen and his hair sticks up at odd angles, Gansey is willing to bet that they’d spent a lot of time doing just that. Then he pulls back and kisses Gansey and Gansey can taste her on him. Blue is a complex series of senses that wind together and Gansey could not, if pressed, identify them as anything other than _Blue_. He wonders what part of her he’s tasting right now, which inches of her skin Henry had mapped out with his lips before Gansey came through the door. It could be anywhere from none of her to all of her and he’d still recognize the taste of her anywhere.

Blue’s hands are roaming over his chest again as Henry kisses him. Her nails are short but they provide a nice scratch. She draws faint pink lines upwards toward his shoulders and pushes the sides of his dress shirt to the side to reach his ribs. Her touches make him gasp and Henry swallows them all eagerly. In the right frame of mind, Gansey tastes like the breeze rolling off of pine needles on a warm day.

One of Blue’s hands presses flat against Gansey’s ribs; the fingers of the other one pinch at one of Gansey’s nipples and tug lightly. Gansey gasps again, and hears himself echoing it across years. Henry bites at Gansey’s lip when he notices him straying again, which pulls Gansey back into the second that he lives in. One second per second, he reminds himself. No point living all of his lifetimes at once. Blue thumbs at his nipple again, tracing around the place where darker skin meets light, and then she leans forward a little and kisses at Gansey’s throat. Gansey lets out a soft moan, and Henry grins against him.

“Blue, he likes that,” he points out, unnecessarily but Blue likes to know when the things she’s doing are earning positive reactions.

“He sounds so pretty,” Blue murmurs in agreement. She kisses a little lower on his throat, then parts her lips and sucks a little. Gansey’s answering moan is a little louder and a little more insistent.

“Perfect,” Henry declares.

“Beautiful,” Blue agrees.

Gansey trembles between them.

Blue makes Gansey draw a line with his finger where his shirt collar sits. His hand is shaking a little, so she wraps hers around it to steady him. He draws her a boundary and she kisses the edge of it, then shifts down half an inch and bites down. He jerks against her, letting his head fall back against her chest, and she worries the skin with her teeth and sucks until he’s earned her bruise.

Henry has ducked down to his chest and is now kissing along his sternum. Gansey wants to reach for him, and Henry seems to realize, because he reaches up and takes Gansey’s hand in his. “Shoulder?” he asks. Gansey’s fingers twitch a little. “No, head,” Henry says, understanding. Gansey nods and Henry ducks his head a little and pushes Gansey’s hand toward it. Without its usual product, Henry’s hair is very soft and it’s easy for Gansey to wind his fingers through it and hold on. Henry looks pleased as he leans back down and starts mouthing at Gansey’s ribs. His lips are as hot as Blue’s hands. Gansey feels like he might be catching fire very very slowly. Reverberations from Gansey-on-fire. The flames warm his belly.

Blue leaves a couple more bruises along the slope of his shoulder, where he can cover them up but he can’t stop feeling them. Henry has one nipple in his mouth and both his thumbs pressing into Gansey’s hipbones. Gansey is shaking between them, wrung out and stretched thin in the best way after a day of being wrung out and stretched thin in the wrong ways. His self-consciousness had taken a hit when he became his own third incarnation, and he barely feels shy about the moans Blue and Henry are dragging out of. Blue, he knows, loves them, and Henry just likes touching him, whether or not he makes any noise.

“Blue,” he rasps, and Blue’s head tilts up a little to show that she’s listening.

“Yes?”

“Please,” he whispers, and he doesn’t know what he’s asking for.

She kisses his cheekbone, just under one eye. “Let us take care of you.”

“I know,” he says, and he does, but he wants, and he knows it’s okay because he knows there’s nothing they won’t give him.

“He deserves it,” Henry says from somewhere around Gansey’s belly. There are a couple of bite marks there too - bigger than Blue’s, but lighter. “He’s been good.”

“He’s always good,” Blue says fondly. Gansey shivers a little, and Blue nuzzles along his jaw.

“He’s ready,” Henry says. He ducks his chin down and it brushes against the bulge in Gansey’s underwear.

Blue looks down, eyes unbearably fond, and nods. “Who do you want tonight, Gansey?” she asks, low in his ear. “Me or Henry? You can have whoever you want.”

Gansey closes his eyes for a moment, just breathing, then says, “Henry.”

Henry gives them both a crooked smile. One hand slips down to palm at Gansey, and Gansey’s entire body stutters upwards. Blue tightens her legs around his sides and holds him back down. “Easy, we’ve got you,” she murmurs. “Right, Henry?”

“Absolutely.” Henry’s eyes are warm and serious and light-hearted all at once. Sometimes Gansey gets caught in them, and Henry lets him with only some light ribbing and a warm smile afterwards.

“We’ll wait until you’re ready,” Blue says.

Gansey had felt like he was crawling halfway out of his skin before, but now that he has the choice, he has to take a moment to breathe. Neither Blue nor Henry begrudges him that, and they keep their touches light and gentle as Gansey gets every second of himself back under control. He feels held together under their hands. It feels safe.

“Okay,” he tells Henry. “Slow?”

“Long slow or easy slow?” Henry asks.

“Long slow.”

Gansey feels Blue’s hips twitch minutely against his back. He knows how much she likes it when his voice cracks, and when Henry goes long and slow, it usually breaks completely.

Henry traces his fingers around the outline of Gansey’s cock for a while. He watches Gansey’s face and Gansey watches back, the way Henry mirrors his body from the little twitches of his lips to the insistent press of his cock in his sleep pants. Gansey’s fingers tighten and release in turn in Henry’s hair, and Henry closes his eyes for a moment with a tiny, serene smile, and then opens them again. He rests his chin on Gansey’s hipbone and then finally tugs the waistband of Gansey’s underwear down far enough to get Gansey’s cock out.

Blue lets out a slow breath in his ear. Henry looks up at her and nods so she reaches down and gives him a few strokes. Gansey’s moan is a jagged thing that comes out of him with no warning. He feels her swallow where her throat leans against his shoulder and she curses softly as his hips buck up into her hand.

“See? He’s so eager,” Henry says. “He’s ready.”

“Yeah,” Blue agrees. She’s just the tiniest bit breathless, but Gansey latches onto it like a second touch. Blue makes the best noises; sometimes he spends an hour dragging them out of her before she presses his face down and makes him finish what he’s started.

Blue withdraws and goes back to running her hands over Gansey’s chest. Henry licks his palm and takes her place, which is warm waiting for him. Gansey’s hips stutter but Henry holds him down with one hand wrapped around his thigh, one forearm across his hip, one glance that stills Gansey better than words ever do. He strokes lightly along Gansey’s cock, from base to tip without nearly enough pressure. It makes Gansey’s legs shake a little, and he’d like to buck up into it, but Blue is holding him back with intention as much as her thighs. He had asked for long and slow, and Henry is going to give it to him.

His attention sways back and forth between the two of them. Sometimes it’s on Blue, who kisses his throat and his lips and the top of his head, and sometimes it’s on Henry, whose fingers twist over the very top of his cock. Blue makes him gasp and Henry makes him whimper and then they trade. Henry’s thumb teases along the frenulum of Gansey’s cock, which makes Gansey moan loudly, and Blue settles her hand very lightly around his throat, which makes Gansey breathe her name the way Ronan says _God_ , or _Adam_.

He’s not paying attention when Henry shifts up a little on balance on his knees, but then the head of his cock is in Henry’s mouth and Gansey feels like every second of time stops and redirects toward him all at once. He looks down at Henry, who’s bowed over his lap, one hand wrapped around the base of Gansey’s cock and the other stroking absently at his hip. Henry always looks focused when he does this, and he’s done it often enough that Gansey knows he always looks focused. This is Henry’s forte, when he can do and not speak, communicate without a word, be in control of himself and Gansey and a part of a smooth and functional machine at the same time.

Gansey’s hand tightens in his hair.

Blue is watching too, now. Gansey understands that she likes to watch. She likes to see them both feel good, as much as she likes to participate. She likes feeling Gansey tense and relax and tense again pressed up against her. Gansey rocks back a little, grinding against her in a way he hopes is nice for her, and she hisses through her teeth and grinds back against him, but she also rests a hand on his shoulder. “Not now,” she reminds him. “Just you right now.”

It’s a bit disappointing but it’s hard to disagree with her when Henry’s tongue is flicking back and forth across the head of his cock. Without Blue in his immediate thought process, his mind diverts back to Henry, who’s watching them again. He makes eye contact with Blue and Blue shivers a little and curls her arms around Gansey’s chest, just holding onto him. It traps his arms, but not enough that he can’t still hold on to Henry’s hair, and if Henry is going to make this last, Gansey’s going to need it.

At another time, he might have been embarrassed about falling apart, but he isn’t now. Henry’s head bobs in his lap, taking a little more of him in each time. Blue is murmuring quiet praises in his ear - _you look so good you’re doing so well I love how you can take this for us isn’t he perfect Henry?_ (Henry nods and doesn’t bother answering with words) _he’s doing so well too, he’s perfect for us, isn’t he Gansey?_ (Gansey nods and can’t answer because his mouth is too busy moaning for words) _you two are so good come on Gansey you can let go it’s okay we’ve got you_ \- and it shakes Gansey down to his core. He’s no stranger to praise, but when they say it - any of them, not just Blue, but all of them - it sinks into him and becomes another tiny part of him. It becomes a safe and comforting core to wrap himself around that he can return to when he needs it most.

“Henry,” Gansey says, which is the first word he’s spoken in a while. His voice is scratchy, and he knows Blue likes it by the way her arms tighten a little. “Henry.”

Henry looks up, lips stretched wide and eyes crinkled up a little. Blue swears softly.

“Henry, please,” Gansey mumbles. His throat feels dry and his cock aches. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since Henry first touched him. For them, at least. For him, it’s been an eternity and back, just like everything else.

Henry slowly pulls back, sucking extra hard as he pops off of the top of Gansey’s cock. He says something that Gansey doesn’t hear over his own loud curse. The hand around the bottom half of his shaft is still there, jerking him gently, but Henry is waiting patiently now for whatever Gansey wants to say.

“If you ask him nicely,” Blue says in his ear, “He might go fast now.”

“Henry,” Gansey says insistently.

Hansey smiles a little, more in his eyes than in his mouth. “You have to ask, Gansey boy. I want to know.”

“Please?” Gansey asks. “Harder.”

“I thought you wanted it slow,” Henry teases, but it’s good natured.

“Need it…” Gansey twists a little in Blue’s arms and she hugs him tightly. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a hug instead of more restraint, but it is.

“Hey, we know,” Henry says soothingly. The hand that isn’t busy rubs along Gansey’s thigh. “Do you need it hard now?”

Gansey nods. He feels about as thin as cellophane now and just as see-through.

“Okay,” Henry agrees. “That’s just fine, Ganseyman. We can go hard.”

Gansey is absurdly grateful for both of them.

Henry ducks back down and swallows half of Gansey in one go. Gansey arches up and Blue isn’t quite able to hold him back. She reaches out and grabs for his waist, pushing him down as much as she can, and then he reaches for her hand with the one that’s not tangled in Henry’s hair. She laces their fingers together and pulls her fingers up to her lips to kiss his knuckles, and then lets them settle over Gansey’s chest. Her fingertips press into his skin to feel his moans as they force themselves out of his mouth.

Henry has left all semblance of teasing behind now and is working Gansey over hard. Gansey has left all semblance of quiet behind now and is letting out near constant moans. Blue is holding herself together pretty well - not perfectly, but mostly - and makes a point to tell Gansey how good he sounds with every noise that Henry drags out of him. “I love the sounds you make,” she whispers in his ear. He keens loudly as Henry’s tongue flattens and then points again. “Yeah, just like that. You sound so good, Gansey, I love listening to you. I could listen to you forever.”

“Blue,” Gansey gasps out. His fingers tighten in hers. Her thumb strokes his.

“You’re alright,” Blue says. “We’ve got you. We won’t let you slip.”

“Blue,” he says again, more urgently. Blue swallows again and nods.

“I understand you,” she says softly. “You can hold on a little longer, can’t you?”

Gansey nods, because if she wants him to, then he can hold on forever, but he has to close his eyes and turn his face against her neck to do it. She doesn’t mind, just strokes his hair and holds him tight to her chest. He’s a little sweaty, and so is she, but the shower in the hotel is nice and will fit at least two of them. Maybe three, if they really pack in.

“Blue,” Gansey says after another half-minute. He sounds increasingly frantic. Blue feels very, very warm.

“I know, it’s alright,” she says. “You’re doing fine.”

“God, I need…”

“We have everything you need,” she reassures him. “We’ll take care of it.”

He shudders hard and his hips are rolling up steadily into Henry’s mouth now. Henry rides it out nobly, because he knows this game and also because he likes it. Gansey won’t come unless they both ask him to when things are like this; sometimes, he likes to call the shots, but sometimes, they all know that he needs things to be taken out of his hands. The fingers tangled in Henry’s hair are borderline painful but Henry knows that there isn’t much time left.

Gansey’s teeth grit together and he presses his forehead hard against Blue’s jaw. He can see his own snapping point, but they can see it too. It’s a very visible thing that he carries all over his body, and Blue and Henry like to put their hands on it and see if they can’t twist it a little bit farther. “ _Blue_ ,” he manages through harsh breaths and Blue, finally, nods.

“Tell me what you want, Gansey.”

“Wanna come,” he gasps out.

Blue bites her lip. “Ask nice.”

“Can I please?”

“Can you what?”

“Blue, can I come, please, Jesus…”

Blue nods again. “You can.”

Gansey shudders hard and arches up, but he pulls at Henry’s hair until Henry looks up. “Henry…?”

Henry’s eyes are infinitely warm. He pulls up a little so that he’s sucking at just the head of Gansey’s cock, which makes Gansey spasm hard and his self control waver dangerously, but then Henry just meets his eyes and nods and whatever threads were holding Gansey back snap like they were never there.

At times when he’s not coming, Gansey really admires Henry’s dedication to blowjobs. It had taken him some practice to get used to not pulling back and gagging when Henry came in his mouth, but Henry just sinks down and works him through it. Gansey can feel the very tip of his cock in Henry’s throat, so he can feel the ripple of muscle as he swallows, and that just drags it out more. His entire body is shaking and it feels like all the tension is drawing into a single fine spiderweb of a thread and then releasing all at once. His cock pulses and his hand presses Henry down - something he will apologize for later and Henry will remind him that he really quite likes but Gansey finds it difficult to shake his old Southern manners - and he’s loud. He knows he’s loud. He’s always loud when Henry and Blue make him wait, but Blue loves it when he’s loud. Over his own pleasure, he can feel little puffs of her breath against his neck, and it makes it even better, knowing that he’s making them all feel good at once.

Henry sucks him through it and then keeps going until Gansey lets out a little whimper of overstimulation. Then he slowly pulls back, letting Gansey’s cock flop softly against his thigh, and rubs his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks up at Blue, whose eyes are very dark, and then Gansey, whose eyes are very bright, and reaches out to tap Gansey’s forehead with one finger.

“You still in there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Gansey, not in contact with words at the moment, nods, and then turns his face up to kiss Henry’s fingertips. Henry’s eyes light up and he gives them both a crooked grin.

“C’mere,” Blue says. Her voice is a little husky now, which Gansey finds unbearably attractive. Henry leans forward and she kisses him deep, which makes Henry groan and Gansey sigh contentedly.

“Gansey?” she murmurs when they break for a breath.

Gansey nods. “Yeah,” he croaks. She knows what he means.

“Good,” she says. “You did well. You did everything just perfectly.”

Gansey can’t help but glow under the praise.

Blue shifts out from under him and helps him lie down on the bed. He rolls onto his side and looks at them, eyes half-lidded. Henry’s arousal is very obvious through his sleep pants; Blue’s is less obvious to the casual observer, but Gansey knows that her body is full of restless energy. He feels sleepy and sated and like his limbs are heavy, but fortunately, neither of them expect anything from him except for him to stay close.

“Gansey,” Blue say. Her voice is gentle despite how keyed up he knows she is. “Henry and I will take care of each other, alright? You’ve done everything you need to do today. You can just rest now.”

Gansey nods. He reaches for her hand and she takes it with a soft smile. “‘S good.”

“Alright.” Blue raises his hand to her lips and kisses his palm, and then lets him go as Henry leans forward to kiss her. Gansey tucks his hand back against his chest and is content to watch as Henry presses Blue back against the bed and slips his hand down the front of the boxers she wears to bed. He watches as Henry twitches his wrist forward and Blue slowly cracks apart under him, and then she tugs the waistband of his sleep pants down to jerk him off as well. They pant together, messy breaths between their kisses, and Gansey never feels anything but a deep sense of satisfaction as he watches them piece the three of them back together again.

 


End file.
